Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story
by Grey Necromancer
Summary: Based on the books by Jim Butcher. Bookverse. Takes place shortly after the end of Small Favor. Chapters 1 thru 14 with more on the way. Murphy, Thomas, Molly, Michael, Ramirez, Marcone and Mavra all inside. Spoilers up to and through Small Favor
1. Chapter 1

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

This story takes place sometime after the events in Small Favor.

**One**

I really don't know how I get myself into these situations. Well, on second thought, I actually do know how I get myself into these situations. And I keep doing it - over, and over, and over again. At least this time the building wasn't on fire – at least not yet. Running down the main hallway at something close to speed of light (okay, okay - I might be exaggerating just a tiny bit) I summoned my will and sent it through my blasting rod. A loud shout of "Forzare!" preceded the rapidly approaching set of doors being blasted off of their moorings and out into the street, which were followed quickly by, well, yours truly.

I knew Molly, my young (and somewhat reluctant apprentice), was hiding somewhere across the street concealed by a veil (and believe me when I say the girl can do a veil - she really has a talent for them). I shouted at the top of my lungs (between gasping breaths), "Molly, its time for Plan B!"

I heard a small, feminine voice reply as if, literally, from nowhere, "Harry, why are you running?"

"That's Plan B! Now move your ass!" I somehow managed to get out between breaths. Molly dropped her veil and started running. She had a pretty good lead on me, but I was closing on her quickly. I don't like to run. I really don't. But I consider it an important survival skill as opposed to anything akin to, ugh, exercise. And it works. I can't tell you how many times I have extended my life span due to my ability to run away from all kinds of scary things that were trying their best to kill me.

The down side to this tactic is that you can only run for so long. At some point you have to man up (or should I say _wizard_ up) and fight. I'm no slouch in that area either, and over the last few years I've become even better. Starting, and then fighting in, a war with the Red Court of Vampires; fighting in and surviving a battle between the Summer and Winter Courts of the Sidhe, in which I even managed to kill the Summer Lady; as well as facing off with the Denarians (or Nickel-Heads as I like to call them), a particularly nasty and powerful group of Fallen Angels, sort of does that to a fellow.

Reaching an all but deserted stretch of alley, I turned to face the nasty-of-the-week that had prompted my flight-or-fight response to begin with. Or should I say nasties? Three darkhounds were in pursuit and closing on my location, and therefore me, very quickly. I stumbled upon them while searching the afore-mentioned building (that I only just recently fled from) for vampires of the Black Court. In the confined spaces of the building - such as rooms and hallways - I wouldn't have had even the slightest chance of survival. But out here in the open I felt I might at least _have_ the slightest chance of survival.

Behind me, I heard Molly shout, "Harry, what are you doing?"

"Molly, get your ass to the car! Now!" I shouted in return.

"But I want to help!"

My apprentice has never been short on courage - or seen from another point of view - stupidity. But she doesn't have the necessary skills yet to be good in a fight. Hell, she might not ever have them. Her talents just don't seem to run in the direction of combat wizardry. If she stuck around I would have to divide my attention on saving not only my own ass, but hers as well (and though I hate to admit it, hers is awesome).

"Hell's bell's, Molly! Just get to the car! Please?" I shouted at the top of my lungs.

And then the time for conversation was over. I shook out my shield bracelet and sent a small portion of my will through it - readying it for the coming fight. My rune- and sigil-carved staff began to glow as I began to push my will into it as well. I lifted my right hand and pointed it at the lead darkhound, revealing the latest addition to my arsenal of offensive weapons - a solid-silver bracelet.

The bracelet is a couple of steps up from the three-tiered silver rings that I wear on each finger of my right hand. The bracelet, obviously being much larger than the rings, is able to store more kinetic energy than all of the rings combined. I've also been able to inlay some runes and sigils on it that enable it to be charged much more quickly than my rings. It's a one-time-use "weapon" that releases all of the kinetic energy stored within it in a single burst. It is also extremely powerful, so much so that I don't dare use it on anything except supernatural threats - it would easily kill a vanilla-flavored mortal.

I triggered the bracelet by pushing a tiny portion of my will into it. The blast of kinetic energy struck the hound full-on. I obviously can't tell you what that blow felt like to the animal - but I think you could liken it to being hit by a train. The beast was hurled backwards, crashing through a broken, brick retaining wall and into a large garbage dumpster, before finally coming to a stop. The darkhound didn't get back up. One down, two to go.

I started to aim my staff at the next beast, when it was struck broadside by a hurtling mountain of grey fur, snapping jaws, and very sharp, very large, teeth. It was my dog, Mouse. He was waiting for Molly and me in the Blue Beetle (my car) and must have sensed that I might be in need of some help. I watched as my dog and the darkhound fought a most savage duel that would surely end in death for one of them. The battle was fierce, but short, and pretty-much one-sided. When it was over, Mouse turned to face the last remaining animal.

"No, Mouse!" I shouted. "This one is mine!" The darkhound began a somewhat slow and stealthy approach, as opposed to a quick, aggressive charge. Once he was in range I whirled my staff in a tight circle above my head and then brought it down in a vicious strike to the animal's head while shouting "Fuego!" Fire leapt from my staff and engulfed the supernatural creature in a raging mini-inferno. It never had a chance.

I looked at Mouse and said, "Did you see that? Damn, I'm good!" I don't know if dogs can actually roll their eyes or not, but it sure appeared that Mouse was doing exactly that. Scowling, I said, "Don't roll your eyes at me, you…you… Wooly Mammoth masquerading as a dog. And, well, thanks for the assist. Hot dogs are on me when we get back home." I think my last two remarks are what earned me the big doggy grin and a couple of slobbery dog kisses on my hands and face.

Shortly after the brief, but deadly (at least in the case of the three darkhounds), encounter, Molly pulled up in the Beetle. Mouse worked his way into the backseat and I rode shotgun. "The Weary Wizard Taxi Service has answered your call! Where would you like to go?" inquired Molly.

"Heh. Heh, heh. Very funny. Head for the Bat Cave, Batgirl." I said, sounding less tired than I actually felt. Combat wizardry takes it toll on the _entire_ person - mind, body, and spirit. And when you throw around the kind of power in a fight that I tend to, well, it can be pretty exhausting. I actually came out of this fight in much better shape than any other fight I've been in - but there's always tomorrow. I was looking forward to getting back home and curling up on my couch in front of a cozy fire, with one of Mac's heavenly micro-brews.

"Thanks, Grasshopper." I said, looking at Molly.

"Thanks? Thanks for what, Harry?

"One, for listening to me. Two, for going to the car when I told you to. And three, for sending Mouse back to help me." I said in reply. "You've come a long way kid and you will probably never know how proud I am of you. But you aren't ready for the Big Leagues yet. If you had stayed I would have been worried about you and I couldn't afford that at the time. I hope you understand."

"I understand, Harry. And thanks." Molly said, her eyes beginning to moisten with tears.

"Hell's bell's, Molly, don't get all emotional on me," I said, "you know I don't like to see anyone of the female persuasion cry - for any reason."

"I'm sorry, Harry. But what you just said, well, it was nice. Really nice. You're nice." Molly said, smiling brightly through waning tears.

Muttering under my breath, I softly exclaimed, "Hell's bell's!" I will never understand women.


	2. Chapter 2

Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Two**

Almost an hour (and one verbal warning for not coming to a complete stop at a stop sign - I think it was Molly's good looks and charm, as opposed to the intimidating presence of myself and Mouse - that influenced the outcome of this little scrape with Chicago's Finest) later, we finally arrived back at my apartment. Molly proceeded down the steps to my front door and began to deactivate my wards (even though she wears a charm that allows her to enter without setting them off - she needs all the practice she can get), while I took Mouse on a short walk. After the day's events neither of us really needed the exercise, but it was a good way to wind down. I noticed a rather non-descript, black sedan drive slowly past us as Mouse and I walked back towards my apartment, but didn't give much thought to it.

It was a beautiful evening - not to hot and not to cold - in other words it was just right. The sun had set for the day and the stars seemed more numerous and bright than I had ever noted before. It was at times like these that I found myself thinking about the women in my life (or that used to be in my life, for that matter). Elaine. Susan. Luccio. And Murphy. Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Murphy and I already talked about "us". And there's the whole Kincaid thing. And there's something between myself and Captain Luccio, but I'm not sure what it is or where it's headed.

Sergeant Karrin Murphy works in the Special Investigations division of the Chicago Police Department. She used to run the division when she was Lieutenant Murphy, but she was demoted to sergeant after disappearing for about 24 hours during an investigation she was in charge of. She was helping me rescue Molly from Arctis Tor, Mab's stronghold and the heart of Winter, instead. She stands an even five-feet tall, has blonde hair and crystal blue eyes. And we've known each other for a long time. We've also fought alongside one another against some pretty nasty supernatural foes and managed to come out on top each time.

While I was busy attempting to prevent some psychotic necromancers from attaining godhood, she was on a vacation with Kincaid in Hawaii. I think she gave me a chance to keep her from going, but I didn't take it. I didn't (still don't?) think I had the right to. Later on, while on a case together, we actually talked about "us". She said she wasn't looking for a steady, committed relationship - that they just don't work well with her chosen profession. And me? Well, I'm sure you know me well enough by now. I said that I couldn't do casual. I think they have a name for it these days - something about (blank) buddies? Anyway, Dresden doesn't roll like that. Call me old-fashioned if you want to.

Then, just recently, Kincaid got thrashed by a group of Denarians who were after the Archive (the repository of all of mankind's knowledge which at the present time is a young girl named Ivy). Kincaid and I were trying to stop them, but failed, miserably. He came out of it much worse than I did. He was seriously wounded and it really affected Murphy. She cares about him. So I'm not sure where that leaves me, or us, for that matter. All I know is that I've started to think about her a lot more lately - and wondering if I should try to talk to her again about how I (think?) I feel.

As we reached a street corner about a block away from my apartment, the afore-mentioned non-descript, black sedan pulled up alongside where I was standing while Mouse was busy watering the fire hydrant. The rear window rolled down and a voice I recognized only too well said, "Dresden, we need to talk."

"Gee, John, what ever would we have to talk about? I don't know about you, but I can't think of a damn thing," I growled.

"Dresden, I knew you were going to enjoy this immensely. If I had any other options I wouldn't be here right now. But I don't. Ms. Gard has gone missing. I want you - no - I _need_ you - to find her for me."

"Look, Marcone, I don't like you, I really don't. I have some respect for you, but that's about as far as it goes. Don't take it personally, though. I can't think of a single crime lord I do like. I guess it's one of the few rules I have chosen to live my meager, and sometimes pathetic, life by. But both you and the Amazon have pulled my bacon out of the fire more than once, so although it doesn't mean that I am willing to help, I am willing to hear you out. My office. Tomorrow. One P.M. Sharp." I said the last words slowly, and coldly, as if ice were forming upon them as I spoke.

"Until tomorrow then, _wizard_." Marcone said in reply.

Marcone's driver pulled away from the curb and entered the busy, late-night traffic of the city. Mouse and I walked the remaining block to my apartment. As we neared the stairs that lead down to my front door, Mouse suddenly stopped in his tracks and began to growl, a low throaty sound that could only be described as menacing.

"Mouse? What's the matter, boy?" I asked.

The air seemed to suddenly grow colder and smelled faintly of death. And then I saw her. Medieval-style clothing. A sword and a dagger hanging from a weapons belt worn around her waist. And very undead. That's right. I said _undead_. "Mavra, to what do I owe the displeasure?" I snarled.

"I have come to warn you, Wizard Dresden." Mavra answered in reply. "Your police woman is in danger. There was another of my Court present when the two of you and the Hellhound attempted to kill me several years ago. He has decided that your actions are an insult that cannot go unpunished. He would come for you and the Hellhound but has learned that she is – important? – to the both of you. He believes that her death at his hands would be the worst thing he could do to you and your mercenary friend."

At Mavra's words, a sudden rage welled up inside me. The rage came from nowhere, and everywhere, at the same time. White-hot and savage. I embraced it and began to channel it into my staff, the runes and sigils beginning to glow. "Mavra, the last time we met I warned you that if you ever threatened harm to Murphy, or any of my other friends, again, I would destroy you!" I shouted, my words dripping with power begging for release. But then…

"Wizard Dresden! Stop!" Shouted Mavra. "I have no part in this. I came to warn you because I knew you would lay the blame for this at my feet. And then come for me. Whether or not you could best me in combat remains to be seen, but at this time a fight with you is not in my best interests. This one who comes for the policewoman no longer enjoys the protection of the Court. He acts on his own in this endeavor. I, and others of the Court, want him stopped." Mavra said, her voice hollow and lifeless. "At this moment in time, we seem to have similar goals. Fare thee well, Wizard Dresden!" Mavra said, her voice already sounding distant. And then she was gone.

Holy crap! My life had just gotten a lot more complicated (and dangerous), and I needed that like I needed a hole in the head. I have a meeting with none other than the infamous "Gentleman" Johnny Marcone himself. His (sometime) security consultant Ms. Gard is missing in action. Mavra is in town. And a rogue Black Court vampire is gunning for Murphy. See? I told you there was always tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Three**

I just stood outside for awhile, at the head of the stairway that leads down to the front door of my ever-so-humble abode. It had already been a long day when Molly and I had first arrived at my apartment earlier this evening. Now a short walk had resulted in: a short conversation, and upcoming meeting, with Gentleman Johnny Marcone; Ms. Gard, a friggin' valkyrie, is missing; a rogue Black Court vampire is plotting to kill Murphy; and Mavra is back in town. Hell's bells, what a mess!

I already planned on doing everything in my power to find, and (if necessary), rescue Ms. Gard. I just didn't want Marcone to know that. I can't afford to let my guard down around him or let him get too close to me. I know things about Marcone that make it hard to remember that he is _Chicago's Number One Crime Lord. _He's also _done_ things that make it even harder still. But he is what he is. Prostitution. Drugs. Gambling. Extortion. If it's an illegal enterprise, Johnny has his hands in it at some point. And those things _hurt _people, while I frequently almost get myself killed trying to _help_ them. In some ways I guess I respect him and what he's been able to accomplish. But other things about him turn my stomach.

I told Marcone to meet me at my office at one o'clock tomorrow because I already have a morning appointment scheduled for ten o'clock. I wasn't able to gather much about what the potential client's trouble is though. All I know is that he goes by the name of Mr. Laab. He called and left a message on my answering machine requesting the meeting only a few days ago.

Now, what else? Oh, yeah. Mavra! Why she came to warn me about this rogue vampire and his plans for Murphy is beyond me. I know I told her I'd kill her (again?) if she ever threatened, or came after, Murphy or any of my other friends. And if this rogue vamp was successful in getting to Murphy it is very possible that I would have blamed it on Mavra and gone nuclear on her undead ass. So this might simply be a case of her covering her own tush as a means of self-preservation. But I don't think so. As to what is really motivating her? - well I have no idea about that. If you are looking for someone to get into the head of a centuries-old vampire I am definitely not your man.

I heard the door to my apartment open. "Harry? Harry, are you out here?" It was the voice of my half-brother, Thomas.

"Yeah, Thomas, I'm up here." I replied.

"What the hell are you doing out there? Come inside."

"I was just thinking about some stuff. I'm on the way." I sort of half-growled. I don't like being disturbed when I'm deep in thought. Especially when those times that I find myself deep in thought are few and far between.

Mouse dragged me down the steps that lead to my basement apartment and through the front door. Home at last. My home. It isn't much, but it's mine. I've been attacked by demons here, as well as by some crazed necromancers and their undead armies. I made love to my more-than-human, less-than-vampire, ex-girlfriend Susan, here in this very room. This is also where we decided that we couldn't be lovers anymore (or anything else for that matter - I had recently asked her to marry me) - that it was too dangerous - for both of us. Morgan tried to sucker me into a fight with him here so that he could kill me and make both his, and the Merlin's, life, a little, well, on second thought , a lot, easier.

On the mantle above my fireplace sits _Fiddelacchius; _and on the wall to the right of the fireplace, hangs _Amoracchius,_ in a glass display case. They are two of the three existing Swords of the Cross. I've been entrusted with their care until new wielders, or Knights of the Cross, are found. I've been told that the _original _Merlin only had one Sword placed in his custody. I should probably consider it a great honor that the Swords were placed in my care, but Shiro, the wielder of _Fiddelacchius, _is dead; and Michael, the wielder of _Amoracchius _(and one of my closest friends), was seriously wounded not long ago.I'd much rather have both of them back than to be a custodian of the two Swords.

Mister, my cat, jumped down from his perch atop my bookcase and hurtled into my shins by way of greeting, almost knocking me off of my feet. I placed my staff beside the front door and removed my spell-worked duster, hanging it from a coat rack near the front door. I sat down on the couch just as Mister jumped up into my lap, where he proceeded to enjoy a good scratching behind the ears. Mouse came over and lay down by my feet, where he promptly went to sleep.

"Harry, you don't look so good." Thomas said. What can I say? My brother's powers of observation sometimes border upon the uncanny.

"Thanks, Thomas. I wish I could say the same about you. What are you doing here, anyway?" I inquired, fatigue beginning to settle into my voice.

"Nothing much. I just came by to see how you were doing. It's been a while since we've seen each other. So are you going to tell me what's going on?"

Just then, the trap door leading to the sub-basement, and my lab, opened, and Molly emerged, soaked in sweat, her hair and eyebrows singed.

"I see you're still having trouble with the fire spell I taught you." I said to Molly, trying to stifle a laugh.

"Yes, Sir, I - uh - am. I'm sorry." Molly replied, the hurt of her wounded pride evident in her voice.

"Don't worry about it. It'll come. You didn't set anything on fire down there, did you?" I asked.

"No, Sir. I think I came pretty close to hitting that weird skull of yours - but - well - I think it moved out of the way. But that's impossible. Skulls can't move. Right, Harry?"

"Uh, yes Molly, you're right. Skulls can't move." I replied. Molly doesn't know about Bob the Skull yet and now was definitely not the right time for her to learn about him. A small smile played across my lips as I pictured Bob trying to evade the errant flame of Molly's spell.

"Have a seat, Molly. I was just getting ready to fill Thomas in on some stuff. You should probably hear it also. After I'm done, Thomas can give you a ride home and I'm going to get some shut-eye. I hope." I said, already savoring the idea of a good night's sleep.

I told Thomas everything. I started with the earlier events of the day that had concluded in the encounter with the Darkhounds - and finished with the conversation with Mavra that had occurred just outside of my apartment building. Molly had stared wide-eyed through the whole recitation, while Thomas only contributed a few nods of his head, and a couple of cringes, here and there.

"What are you going to do, Harry?" asked Thomas.

"I'm not sure. I haven't got it all planned out yet. Hell, who am I kidding? I don't even have a plan for a plan yet. I'm going to start by keeping my appointment with the mysterious Mr. Laab in the morning and with Marcone after that. I also need to talk to Murph. Let her know that she might be - hell - probably is - in danger. Then, well, I'll just do what I always do." I said.

"Wing it?" My half-brother asked.

"Damn straight! If it isn't broke, don't fix it."

Thomas left to take Molly home. I headed for my room and after a quick (cold) shower, climbed beneath the thick blankets atop my bed and closed my eyes. And dreamed…


	4. Chapter 4

Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Four**

"I don't drink, Harry, you know that." Michael said, but not as forcefully as I thought he was going to.

"Oh, come on, Michael. There's a _first_ time for everything." I replied, looking at my fellow warden, Carlos Ramirez, and watching the blush rise in his cheeks. This particular evening took place shortly after Ramirez and I had foiled the plans of a couple of White Court Vampires. They were attempting to thin out the wizard population by going after potential birth mothers. Young women with a fledgling talent for magic that might someday give birth to a future wizard were being hunted down and killed. By the time that Carlos and I were finished: the vampires were dead; Lara Raith (Thomas' sister) was in control of House Raith (and therefore the entire White Court); and I had learned that Warden Carlos Ramirez…was a virgin. And I wasn't going to miss a target of opportunity like that.

"Come on, Michael, drink up. Mac doesn't sell any of those cute little _virgin_ drinks here." I said, unsuccessfully stifling a laugh as Carlos started to choke on his drink at the mention of the "v" word. We were at my favorite watering hole - McAnally's. Ramirez had come for a short visit and Charity had actually decided to join the human race (for at least one evening) and allowed Michael to tag along with us on a "boys' night out". "You know, Carlos, if Mac did serve _virgin_ drinks here, I bet Michael would go for the kind with a little umbrella and a _cherry_ on top."

"That does it, Harry! You and me! Outside! Now!" exclaimed a somewhat infuriated Ramirez, pushing back from our table and beginning to stand.

"All right, Ramirez. Calm down. You know I was just having a little fun." I said, with a snickering grin on my face.

"Yes, but at my expense, _Amigo_. How did you get to be such a first-rate ass? Carlos asked, trying to sound angry (but not succeeding very well).

"Practice. Lots and lots of practice. Come on, 'los, lighten up. You'll live longer." I replied.

At that moment the door to Mac's place opened and in walked three Red Court Vampires, accompanied by at least six ghouls. Ghouls. Crap! There is almost nothing that I hate more than ghouls. And vampires are probably a close second. The vampire at the head of the small army of supernatural nasties approached our table, fixing his eyes on…me.

"Wizard, I would very much like to have a conversation with you - a _private_ conversation." The unknown vampire said this calmly and without a hint of menace. Still, I don't make it a habit of talking to vamps. I much prefer killing them.

"Shucks, Snaggletooth, I can't think of anything that you and I would have to talk about. You don't mind if I call you Snaggletooth, do you?"

"Disrespect me if you wish, Mage. It matters not. But I believe that it is in your best interest to listen to what I have to say. I wish merely to speak with you and then I, and my companions, will leave this place."

At this point I didn't really know what to do. The last thing I wanted to do was engage in a conversation with Snaggletooth, but I also didn't know what he might have to say. It could be important. I looked at Ramirez, and then Michael. They both just gave me the deer-in-the-headlights look, although I could tell that Ramirez felt the same way I did. He prefers _killing_ vampires, as opposed to having conversations with them, also. Michael, a Knight of the Cross, can kick serious ass when it is required. But he isn't the kind that goes out looking for a fight. And he doesn't enjoy killing anything - even the _undead_.

"Have it your way, Snaggletooth. But make it quick." I snarled. We made our way over to an unoccupied table in a secluded area of the small pub. After we sat down at opposite sides of the table, Snaggletooth immediately started to speak.

"You are a disgrace to your kind, Wizard. Long have the vampire and the mage coexisted in the world. We have battled before, this is true. But when you killed Bianca, and the other vampires that were with her that night, you crossed a line. In addition to that, your total lack of respect for the Accords is reprehensible. It is a shame that Duke Ortega felt he had to cheat in order to best you in your duel, else we would already be rid of you." This time, Snaggletooth's words had taken on the very cold of the grave and menace dripped from every word.

"What can I say, Snaggle? I'm just a 'Rock and Roll Rebel'. I'm not sure why, but I've never been fond of rules. And, it would seem, Duke Ortega did'nt think very highly of the Accords either. Except when he could employ them to suit his purposes. Now, if that's all that you came to say, this conversation is over. It's starting to smell in here." The last part of my response came out somewhere between a snarl and a growl.

"That is not all that I came to say. Not in the least. You are going to die, Dresden. Perhaps it will be at _my_ hand - perhaps not. But die you will. In the meantime though, I think I might seek out she who was turned on that night of nights - or maybe the policewoman. I've thought of them both - and often. I've devised all sorts of games that I would like to play with them. I hear their screams in my sleep - and they please me."

Susan! Murphy! The bastard was threatening them. My all too familiar friend, mindless and consuming rage, returned in an instant. I stood to my full height, my chair crashing to the floor behind me. The runes and sigils carved into my staff were already beginning to glow. I began to draw up my will - as well as the rage. I was going to make Snaggle wish he had never heard the name Harry Dresden. But then…

"Dresden! Don't! Stand down, man!" It was Mac. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ramirez and Michael in a stand-off with the rest of the goon squad.

"I've got it, Mac. Thanks!" I said. I turned and faced the still-seated Snaggletooth, who was looking up at me - and smiling. "You planned this. This whole thing was a set-up. You came here to piss me off - and get me to attack you. Here in Mac's - on Accorded neutral ground. I'm a card-carrying warden now. The White Council would have to take action, possibly drastic action, against me. Well it didn't work. Get your undead ass out of that chair and the hell out of _here_. If I see you again, I'll kill you." I hissed.

Snaggletooth stood and rejoined his companions. Then they left. Not another word was spoken. Michael, Ramirez and I once again sat down at our table. I filled them in on the conversation that had taken place between Snaggletooth and I. When I was finished, they had no problem understanding why I almost wasted the mother humper right then and there. We sat there for a while longer. Enjoying Mac's beer and each other's company. We even had one of Mac's to-die-for steak sandwiches. Then, saying our good-byes to Mac, we left - and ventured forth into the dark night.

"Madre de Dios!" Carlos softly exclaimed.

We knew we were going to be ambushed. We were ready for it. We just didn't know there were going to be so _many_ of them.


	5. Chapter 5

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Five**

"Madre de Dios!"

"You already said that once, Carlos. And besides, this is nothing compared to what we faced in the Deeps not long ago." I said, trying to convince _myself_ as well as my fellow warden.

"We had a small army with us then, Dresden. Even some of the…I can't believe I'm about to say this…vampires fought by our side. And we still almost had our asses handed to us." Carlos said, his eyes busily scanning his sector for any sign of an impending attack.

"Oh…yeah…you're right." I replied.

"And that reminds me of something. How is Lara doing? I know she's asked about me. It's a curse, but I just have that kind of effect on women. Vampiress or not." Ramirez said, perfectly serious. Only Ramirez could be thinking about sex at a time like this. And with Lara Raith no less? You have got to be kidding me…and he probably was…but with Carlos you can never really tell.

"Um, Earth to Ramirez. There's about to be trouble…I need you _focused_."

Ramirez, Michael and I were standing in a tight 360 outside of Mac's in the darkened alley. At the current time we were surrounded by Snaggletooth and his, well, _horde_ would be a good word, of supernatural fiends. The original group that had entered Mac's earlier that evening was there, but they had been augmented by at least two dozen additional ghouls, four vampires - and what could only be a lesser demon. The creature's legs, torso and upper arms were similar to that of a gorilla's (except larger and more heavily muscled), but its lower arms ended in forelegs similar to that of a lion's – complete with huge paws and razor-sharp claws. And its head…well…its head was similar to that of a ram, complete with the large, backwards curving horns.

I also felt…something else. An unknown presence, something (or someone) was there that couldn't be seen, or didn't _want_ to be. And whatever it was, it certainly wasn't on _our_ side. It felt dark and feral, raw and unfettered. It felt…_evil_.

"This is _endgame_, Wizard. Tonight you _will_ die. You - and your companions with you. Surrender your weapons and I promise you that death will come quickly. Fight and I promise you that your deaths will neither be swift…nor merciful. In fact they will be quite the opposite. Before you die, pain will be the only world you know." Snaggletooth said, his words dripping with the ichor of the grave.

"Nice speech, Snaggle. Now it's my turn. Although I know that you're not going to take me up on this, I'm going to throw it out there anyway. Leave. Now. Or every one of you will die before the sun comes up. By the stars I _promise_ you that." I snarled in reply.

"So be it. I suggest you begin to prepare your death curse, mage."

"Gee, Snaggletooth, I take it that would mean…_no_!" I shouted the last word, and for good reason. I watched, as the nearest ghoul's head suddenly exploded, like a melon thrown at a brick wall from a speeding car. Then another, and another, in rapid succession. Over the years I've learned that in these situations you can never be _too_ prepared. While we were in Mac's I had called my brother, Thomas. At this very moment he was on a rooftop somewhere in the vicinity, armed with a scoped, high-precision rifle. Snipers! They're totally awesome and a great force multiplier. Not only can they kill you from distances so great that you're dead before you hear the gunshot, but the psychological effect on the others in the immediate area is…huge.

A ghoul, evidently deciding that it might be better to die doing something instead of just standing around waiting for his head to explode, rushed Michael. Michael drew _Amoracchius _(the blade already glowing with an - almost - blinding white light) and cut the ghoul from right hip to left shoulder, _all the way through_. Another ghoul, who must have thought that he could fare better than the previous one, also charged Michael. Shouting "_In nomine Dei!_" the Fist of God (as I like to call Michael), responded with a powerful horizontal swing, cutting the hapless ghoul in half.

"Sanctus reservo nos!" Michael shouted. Saints preserve us. I didn't have a problem with that. At the present time I was thankful for any…and all…help we could get. It was at this point that a ghoul decided to test Ramirez. Big mistake…_for the ghoul_. He charged Carlos, picking up speed with every step. And, by the way, ghouls can flat out _move_. Then he struck Ramirez's gelatinous cloud of green light that is his shield.

If the ghoul had tried that tactic with me he would have simply ran into a wall of solid force, kind of like running into a _real_ wall. My shield acts on different principles than the one used by Ramirez. Early on my shield was only designed to stop kinetic energy attacks. After using it to stop a flamethrower attack and almost losing my left hand in the process (because although it stopped the flames, it failed to defend against the _heat_), I improved it. A lot. Now it doesn't just protect against kinetic energy attacks, but against heat, cold, electricity, sound, light, and even a broad spectrum of supernatural energies.

The shield that Ramirez employs is based upon the principles of entropy and water magic. His shield is designed to stop attacks by disrupting, shattering and dispersing anything attempting to pass through it. When the ghoul impacted his shield he was broken into, literally _millions_ of tiny particles that passed harmlessly through Carlos' defensive barrier, some pelting myself as well as Michael. Yuck! I can certainly think of other ways I would like to leave this life. 

Ramirez had his silver Warden's blade out and held ready in his left hand and his staff in his right. The runes and sigils on his staff shone briefly and a shaft of brilliant emerald energy lanced out and removed one of the vampires from the fight…by removing his _head_. Then, transferring his sword to his right hand, he decapitated a ghoul that made the mistake of getting within range of his blade.

While all of this was taking place, I had been gathering my will and preparing an attack that I had been aching to try for quite some time. Not long ago, in order to escape another potentially lethal situation that I had found myself in, I drew heat (a lot of heat) from the waters of Lake Michigan, causing a portion of the lake to freeze over thus providing the means by which I made my escape. Taking things a step further I devised this new attack and, if Bob and I had done everything right, well…it _should_ work.

I began to draw the heat from the _air_ surrounding a group of nasties consisting of three ghouls and a vampire, and not just from the air, but from the nasties _themselves_. The temperature in that small area began to drop…and drop _fast_. Before a span of seconds had passed the targets of my new offensive spell were frozen in place. I don't know if they had actually reached absolute zero, but I bet that they were pretty close to it.

I aimed my staff at a group of three ghouls and with a shout of "Fuego!" unleashed the heat that I had just drawn from their rather unlucky companions. A lance of flame, as thick as a telephone pole, exploded from the tip of my staff and consumed the group before they even knew what was happening. Then I lifted my hand, pointed at the group that I had just frozen, and triggered one of my rings. The frozen figures exploded, shards of ice and frozen gore, flying in all directions. How's that for a one-two punch? Dresden: seven; Snaggletooth: zero. So far, so good…but the fight wasn't over yet.


	6. Chapter 6

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Six**

Due to the efforts of Ramirez, Michael, and myself, we had reduced the numbers arrayed against us by quite a bit. And although I am somewhat of a pessimist, I was beginning to feel good about our chances of making it out of this fight alive, and with most, if not all, body parts present and accounted for and in relatively good condition. In the span of time it took to conduct this silent assessment of our situation another vampire was struck down, decapitated by one of Carlos' eerie green force bolts.

Then I watched as a ghoul's head suddenly exploded, followed swiftly by another's. Thomas must have moved to a new firing position in order to lessen the chance of the enemy locating him. Not a bad strategy, although I don't think they were in any position to do anything about him even if they did locate him. We were giving them all they could handle…and then some.

A ghoul rushed Michael, hurtling towards him with a speed that only the supernatural are capable of. Michael just stood his ground, holding _Amorrachius_ in a two-handed grip, the veins in his formidable biceps standing out like steel cables. Just when it looked as if the unstoppable force (the ghoul) was going to impact with the immovable object (Michael), the Knight of the Cross dropped to one knee and, with one swing of the holy sword, cut the ghoul in two - just above its knees. A second cut disemboweled it and a third removed its head. All of this happened in a span of two or three seconds. Note to self: never make Michael Carpenter angry - especially at one Harry Dresden.

At this point we felt comfortable enough to expand what was once a tight 360 into, well, no 360 at all. We just waded into the remaining enemy…and took the fight straight to them. In hindsight that may have not been such a great idea.

I watched as Carlos dispatched a pair of ghouls - one with a lance of eldritch, emerald- green energy, and the other with his sword. Michael quickly found himself surrounded by a group of four ghouls and a vampire. But he didn't seem too concerned about it. He moved in such a way that only one of his opponents could attack him at any given time. If they tried to attack two or three at a time they only impeded the other's efforts. Not only that, but he really had _Amorrachius_ singing. It was a beautiful, yet terrifyingly deadly, sight.

The ghouls fell before the might of his holy blade, until only the Red Court Vampire was left standing against him. Michael tried to end the fight quickly by employing a swift, powerful, horizontal cut meant to decapitate the vampire. But his opponent ducked under the blow with supernatural speed and threw powerful punches to first Michael's liver, then to his kidney, and then to his floating rib. I watched as Michael doubled over in pain…and as his adversary began to ready what would surely be the final blow of the short fight.

I slammed the heel of my staff upon the ground, pointed my blasting rod at the vampire, and with a shout of "Fuego!" I hurled a fire bolt at him. He must have been concentrating on Michael because I caught him flat-footed. The fire engulfed him and in seconds it was all over. I watched as Michael rose slowly to his feet…and then charged straight forward into another group of ghouls.

"Michael! No!" I shouted. I started to go to his aid but hadn't taken three steps when I was struck from behind. I rolled with the impact, came up into a crouch, and attempted to identify the source of the attack. It didn't take long. The ghoul was already closing in for what he evidently thought was going to be an easy kill. I feigned being injured, luring him in closer…and closer…and then I blew his frigging head off with my .44 revolver. I slipped the weapon back into my shoulder-holster and stood, brandishing my staff, its runes and sigils glowing with eldritch energies.

I targeted a group of five ghouls, hardened my will, and with a cry of "Forzare!" I blasted away at them with raw kinetic energy. They were thrown backwards as if struck by a powerful, invisible hand. They didn't stop until they slammed into the wall of an all-brick building located half-way down the darkened alley. They didn't get back up again. I was starting to get a headache, the kind that feels like someone is sticking a screwdriver into your eye, due to all the magic I was throwing around. I'm a lot stronger than I was when I first started doing this, and my endurance (as far as summoning and brandishing eldritch energies goes) has increased dramatically. But I still have limits…and I was getting close to reaching them.

I looked for Michael. He was surrounded by three ghouls, and although it was obvious that he had taken some serious damage from his previous encounter with the vampire, he was still far from being out of this fight. A ghoul rushed him, closing the distance between them in the time it takes to blink an eye. Michael executed a side-step and a 180 degree turn and tripped the ghoul up by simply sticking out his right leg. He followed with two quick sword strokes - the first severed the ghoul's spinal column and the second decapitated him. Attacks attempted by the two remaining ghouls fared no better than their companion's did and Michael dispatched them quickly and easily.

Three ghouls remained and they had decided to rally around one of the remaining vampires. I started to move in their direction when Ramirez waved me off, indicating that he wanted them all to himself. Unfortunately my brother Thomas must have had other ideas about this, as one of the ghouls fell to the ground even as his head was suddenly exploding into shards of skull, pieces of brain, and other gore. Ramirez dispatched another ghoul with a blast of the eerie green energy he employs. The last ghoul fell to yet another well-placed shot from Thomas, and Ramirez decapitated the vampire with his Warden's sword, obviously removing him from the fight.

Six combatants remained in the once-peaceful alleyway now turned into a battlefield. Carlos, Michael and I stood our ground and faced off against Snaggletooth, his one remaining lieutenant, and the lesser demon. I called out to Michael and Ramirez, getting their attention and signaling them to form up on me. Then all hell broke loose…literally. The lesser demon lifted one ape-like foot and brought it smashing down upon the ground. Suddenly the once-stable surface of the alley erupted in several places in violent explosions, and earthquake-like tremors knocked friend and foe alike to the ground.

Michael was the first to regain his footing and closed on the demon. The demon struck first, swiping at Michael with one of its lion-like paws. Michael wasn't able to avoid the blow entirely and the creature's large, razor-sharp claws tore into his shoulder and upper biceps. Michael swung at the demon with his holy sword, but the hell spawn easily avoided the blow and caught Michael with another strike. Michael wasn't able to avoid this attack. He was knocked backwards, sent hurtling through the air like a leaf driven before a powerful wind. He didn't stop until he slammed into a large garbage dumpster. He tried to get to his feet but just wasn't able to. He was hurt…badly.

"Michael, Hell's bells man, stay down! Ramirez and I can take these guys. Right, 'los?" I inquired, even though I already knew what the answer would be.

"Damn straight, amigo. Who do you want?"

"I say we double-team the demon…I think he's our biggest threat. After we take him out, I'll deal with Snaggletooth and you've got his lieutenant…granted they don't do anything to screw up the plan." I replied, already certain that they wouldn't do anything _but_ screw up my plan. Everyone else does…why should they be any different?

I turned and faced down the demon. I readied my will and began to build up power for my attack. I drew that power from my aches and pains, from my anger of having a night out with my friends interrupted, from the anger I felt when Snaggle threatened Susan and Murphy. Soon I was holding back _a lot_ of magical energy. With a scream of "Fuego!" I hurled fire at the beast. A lance of flame sped towards the demon.

As wide as my staff, it wasn't the largest bolt I had ever cast…but I didn't want it to be. Instead, all of that power, all of that eldritch energy, was focused into one very small, very tight, beam. And it was _hot_. The demon tried to get out of the way, and largely succeeded, except for the fact that he had a hole matching the circumference of my staff burned entirely through the upper thigh of his left leg. As he let out a roar that was a mixture of pain and anger, Ramirez hit the creature with one of his strange blasts and, as a result, the demon lost its lower right leg as its right kneecap disintegrated.

Ramirez was preparing another strike when Snaggle's lieutenant struck him from behind with a vicious blow. See what I mean? Another plan shot to hell. Ramirez had somehow been able to roll with the blow and was now facing his opponent from a low crouch, holding the back of his head in one hand - and his Warden's sword in the other. With the tiniest bit of applied will, I triggered one of my rings at my fellow warden's adversary. The raw kinetic force caught him and sent him flying, buying Ramirez some much-needed time to recover.

I was just getting ready to turn my attention back to the demon - when _it_ struck _me_. The spells worked into my heavy leather duster protected me from the beast's claws, but couldn't do anything about the _sheer force_ of the attack. Now I was the one hurtling through the air. The outer wall of one of the many brick buildings lining the alleyway brought my impromptu flight to a sudden, bone-jarring halt. If one or two of my ribs weren't broken, they were, at the very least, badly bruised. Every breath I took was accompanied by searing, excruciating pain.

I looked up to see the hell spawn slowly approaching me, hampered by the fact that half of his right leg was gone. Then I saw Michael stalking him from behind. Somehow he had found the strength to get back into the fight, although badly injured. The first strike by _Amorrachius_ severed the hamstring of the beast's (almost) good left leg. As the beast fell to its knees, the second blow took its head off. The demon was no longer a threat. Michael collapsed right where he stood, whatever reserves of energy that he had tapped into in order to get back in the fight now depleted.

Ramirez was back on his feet and facing off against what now appeared to be a very angry Red Court vampire. Ramirez stood his ground while the vampire slowly stalked towards him. Suddenly the vampire's approach was brought to a halt as first his left, then his right, kneecaps exploded in shards of bone and cartilage, pieces of flesh, and other gore. Seconds passed before I actually heard the gunshots that were responsible for the crippling of the vampire. Ramirez ended his undead life with his Warden's sword.

That left me and Snaggletooth. I stood to my full height and tried to look as imposing as possible while I approached him, while also trying to hide the fact that I was hurt. I don't think it worked.

"You're hurt, Wizard. And scared. I can smell your fear. You reek of it." Said Snaggletooth, his voice both loud…and dark.

"You bet I'm scared. But not of you. I'm scared because I have to explain to Charity why I didn't have her husband home by his curfew…and, more importantly, how he got hurt. I'd rather fight this whole fight all over again than face Charity and tell her Michael was hurt - because of me - again." I stated in reply. Then I triggered my remaining rings, all at once, unleashing the raw kinetic energy stored in them against my opponent.

The energy streaked towards Snaggletooth and I waited for the results of its impact. Instead, Snaggle muttered something in an unfamiliar language (unfamiliar to me anyway) and nothing happened. The energy from my attack dissipated as it fell victim to a counter spell cast by the vampire.

"I have…some knowledge of the arcane arts myself, Wizard. It is not by chance that you and I find ourselves here in this alley tonight. This is all part of a larger plan, Dresden. As I said earlier…you are going to die, maybe not at my hand, but die just the same. It is inevitable."

"Everyone dies Snaggletooth. Everyone. Some just live longer than others. As a matter of fact, from the day we're born _we're dying_, getting closer to the grave with every moment that passes. Somewhere along the line someone decided to call our journey to the grave _living_, when in fact we are really _dying_, moment by moment, hour by hour, day by day…well, you get the point. Death doesn't scare me, but I'm not in any hurry to face it either. So shut the hell up and let's finish this!" I screamed the last part, furious at this frigging vampire who had ruined my evening, threatened Murphy and Susan, and hurt my friends.

Snaggletooth leapt at me, as only a vampire can, attempting to cover the fifty or so feet that lay between us in a single bound. At the apex of his leap I lifted my staff and with a shout of "Forzare!" I attacked. Again, raw kinetic force hurtled towards my opponent, only this time my attack was successful. The massive forces unleashed by my spell caught Snaggle in mid-leap and sent him hurtling high into the late-night/early-morning sky. He must have traveled a hundred yards or more before gravity reclaimed him and brought him crashing back down to the earth below.

I had been tracking his position and was there to meet him as he landed; hitting the concrete of a small parking lot so hard that he left a small crater. I whirled my staff above my head, summoning my last reserves of will…and power. The intricately carved runes and sigils of my staff _blazed_ with eldritch might. I called forth fire and with a cry of "Fuego!" I struck Snaggletooth with my staff. Hot, violent flame exploded around him, burned him, and then consumed him.

It was over…except for the feeling that there was someone, or something, still there. Present…but hidden away. I reached out with my magical senses, probing…searching. There! Whoever it is, whatever it is, it's over there somewhere. I started to push harder, probe deeper…I started to get a feel of what it was, an impression…and then it was gone. Just like that…as if it had never been there to begin with.


	7. Chapter 7

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Seven**

I took my time waking up, like a SCUBA diver slowly approaching the water's surface in an effort to avoid the bends. I rolled onto my side and propped myself up onto one elbow. Sunlight was streaming in through the windows and Mister was curled up at the foot of my bed. I took a quick, cold shower; dressed myself; devoured a bowl of sweetened cereal; let Mister out for his morning ramble; and then, along with Mouse, I left for my office.

I know you're going to find this very hard to believe, but I actually arrived _on time_. Yup! Ten-thirty on the nose. This time it was my _client_ who was late. I unlocked my office door and made my way to my desk. Mouse found what he thought must have been a rather cozy corner, lay down, and was quickly asleep (and most likely dreaming doggie dreams).

The first thing I did was call Murphy.

"Hello?"

"Murph, its Harry." I said.

"I know who this is, you dolt. I've known you _more_ than long enough to be able to recognize your voice, even over the phone. And even when that phone line is constantly filled with the most annoying static…just another perk of having a _wizard_ for a friend." stated Murphy, sounding more grouchy than usual.

"Gee, Murph, you seem to be in a _great_ mood this morning. It's always such a _pleasure_ to talk to you." I replied, enjoying our banter.

"Screw yourself, Dresden."

"I'd rather not. Also…I'm not even sure that it's anatomically possible."

"Smart ass! Why do you always have to be such a smart ass? No…never mind. What do you want, Harry?" Murphy asked.

"You're in trouble, Murph. I had a surprise visit from Mavra last night. She came to warn me about a rogue vampire that's gunning for you. Why she even bothered to warn me at all…well…I haven't figured that out yet. She provided a reason - and on the surface it makes sense - but I think there is more to it. But right now that isn't all that important. I'm worried about _you_. You need to watch your back. Don't go anywhere alone - especially after sunset. And try to stay around large groups of people. He would be one very foolish vampire to try to attack you in public."

"Dresden, are you insane? If this is some sort of sick…"

"Karrin, I'm serious…as serious as I can possibly be. I'm going to find the bastard and take him out. But until I can do that I need you to watch your ass. I'd be more than happy to watch it for you but… one…I have to find this guy…and two… if you caught me watching _your_ ass you would probably kick _mine_." I said, and it was true…all of it…especially the part about volunteering to watch her ass.

"Alright, Harry, I'm trusting you on this one. And by the way…I've caught you watching my ass several times…and I've never kicked your ass for it. Got to go. We'll talk later." Murphy said. And then she hung up.

I know what you're thinking. Anyone else would have caught what Murphy had just revealed to me and known exactly what it was she was trying to say (without actually coming out and saying it). But not Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden. Nope. It went right over my head. Maybe Murphy had it right when she called me a dolt.

I spent the rest of the morning catching up on paperwork and what seemed like an endless pile of bills. I was actually looking forward to my meeting with Marcone just to break up the boredom. At around twelve-thirty I stood up from where I was seated at my desk, stretched, and walked over to the filing cabinet. Just as I reached it, I felt the hairs on the nape of my neck suddenly stand on end, reacting to just the subtlest hint of magic in use. I turned around…and there he was. The second before I had been alone in my office (except for Mouse of course) and now, a second later, I _wasn't_ alone.

He stood about six feet in height (give or take an inch) and probably weighed anywhere between two hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds. He was clothed in a crimson robe, complete with a large cowl that effectively concealed his facial features. The robe was tied at the waist with a cord that appeared to be made of braided hair, and I remember thinking that it was probably _human_ hair. He was wearing an amulet. But it wasn't like the pentacle that _I_ wear…not even close. Hanging from a black chain was what appeared to be a goat's head. Except that the horns were much longer than any you would find on a goat…and there was a pentagram in the center of the goat's forehead. His loose-fitting garment could not conceal the fact that he was heavily muscled.

"Who…"

"Silence!" the stranger shouted.

I started to draw up my will, either to employ my shield bracelet, or attack, or both. But before I could do _anything_, I felt my feet leave the floor. At the same time my office grew _dark_…and _cold_. I remember thinking that I was being _levitated_, and that I should do _something_…_anything_. And then all I remember was _pain_. It was my whole world. It was _all_ _around_ me. It was _in_ me. It _was_ me. I'm no stranger to pain. I've been beat up by some pretty bad dudes. I've survived things most others wouldn't. But this was _different_. I had never felt anything like it before…_never_.

How long I existed in that state…well…I have no idea. Time had become insignificant. Pain was all there was. But…eventually…the pain began to lessen. It didn't go away entirely…but I was no longer _consumed_ by it. It was then that he chose to speak.

"Wizard! Look at me, wizard! We must have words…you and I."

"Are…you…kidding? You…attack me…in my own…office…and now…you want…to talk? Go…spit." I managed to say.

"I see that you are as arrogant…and ignorant…as ever. Would you like me to call back the pain?"

Instead of answering his question, I asked one of my own, "Who in the hell are you?"

"Oh, you mean you don't know? I am your morning appointment."

"My morning appointment was with someone named Laab…a Mr. Laab." I said.

"What? Oh. Yes. I am he. Only the name…mage…is _Baal_."

"Baal? Uh…as in the _demon_?" I asked.

"Yes, wizard. I am he. We are not strangers…you and I. You have been in my presence before. "

"What?" I reached out with my senses, enhancing them with my magic as much as I could while still held in the strange, painful thrall. It wasn't much…but it was enough. "You! You were there that night. You were the presence I felt when I fought Snaggletooth." I said, confident that he was the one I had sensed lurking behind the scenes that night.

"Yes, wizard, you are correct. It was I. I had heard much talk about a young, upstart wizard that…despite all odds…kept coming out on top in situations that should have left him dead. I had to see for myself…so I…_made use_…of the one you call Snaggletooth."

"Well…I hope you enjoyed the show. He wasn't much of a challenge though. As a matter of fact …as far as vampires go…he was sort of a pussy. Now…what the hell do you want?" I snarled.

"By now you have no doubt learned that Marcone's valkyrie bodyguard has gone missing. I have no doubt that he has come to you and asked for your aid in finding her. I strongly advise that you do no such thing. My...Master…has plans for her."

"Your...Master?" I asked.

"Yes, wizard, my Master. He has many names. Abaddon. Astaroth. Dagon. Leviathan. Saitan. Set. But you probably know him best as _Lucifer_."

"You mean…_the_ Lucifer? _Satan_? Hell's bells, man. Don't you think you're taking this whole demon thing just a little too far?" I inquired, with just a little…okay…a lot…of sarcasm. Baal didn't appreciate it…not at all. He gestured…and the pain was back. I swear to you I would have screamed if I could. But I couldn't. My mouth was open…and I was trying to scream…but nothing came out. Tears involuntarily streamed from my eyes…and there was _blood_ in them.

"Fool! You try my patience. I did not come here to kill you. Only to warn you to stay out of that which is to come...what…what was that?"

There was a sound just outside my office door. _Footsteps_. Someone was coming.

"It seems that you are about to have company, mage. How unfortunate. Just when we were making real _progress_. Remember what I told you, wizard. Involve yourself in this business at your own peril. The powers in play far surpass your meager talents." said Baal. And then…he was gone. Just like he had arrived. There was the slightest whisper of power…and then he simply…_vanished_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Eight**

As soon as Baal departed, his binding fell apart and I was no longer held in thrall. I fell a couple of feet until I was stopped by a most inconvenient, but also unavoidable, collision with my office floor. The impact drove the breath from my lungs and caused numerous other aches and pains to shoot up all over the place. I curled up on the floor and wished the world would just melt away.

Mouse padded over and began to nuzzle my throat and face with his wet, cold nose. He was making some strange chuffing sounds and seemed genuinely concerned about my condition. He began to lick my face with that gigantic tongue of his. I don't know if it was because of the fact that my dog was there to take care of me, or because he was employing some special _Temple Dog_ ability, but with every lick of that huge tongue…I felt _better_. Maybe it was a little of both.

The door to my office opened. I tried to turn my head and look in that direction, but it still hurt too much. I heard footsteps approaching and could only speculate as to who it might be. Then Hendricks knelt down beside me just as "Gentleman" Johnnie Marcone entered my limited field of vision.

"Gee…John…what took…you…so long?" I asked.

"Dresden, I'm ten minutes early." replied the gangster.

"Like…I said…what…took you…so long?" I asked again. That's me…always the smart ass. Even when someone probably just saved my bacon.

"Dresden, you are impossible. What happened here?" asked Marcone.

"Oh…you know…the usual. Someone…who thinks…he's a _demon_…no…the demon _Baal…_ no less…appears in my office…roughs me up…pretty good…and then…hauls ass. It happens…all the…time." I said, wondering if I should laugh, cry, or both.

"Can you stand? Hendricks can assist you…if necessary."

"No…thanks. I think…I'll just…lay here…for awhile. The floor…isn't as…uncomfortable…as it looks." I said.

"Dresden, as I said before, you are impossible. Hendricks…help the wizard to his feet." said Marcone, the tiniest of smiles playing upon his lips.

With help from Hendricks, I made it to a standing position, while managing not to cry out in pain. I really didn't want to look like a big pussy in front of Marcone. I asked for my staff and used it to help _keep_ me in a standing position. Then I began to implement certain techniques to help me block out the pain I was in, techniques taught to me by the shadow of a fallen angel that had taken up residence in my head for a while.

"Dresden, if you are up to it, we must discuss Miss Gard."

"Funny you should mention that, Marcone. That is exactly what Baal and I were discussing before you showed up. He has her. I'm going to find her…and get her back. I was going to do it anyway. But after what just happened…well…now it's personal." I said.

"Wizard…"

"I know, Marcone. If I need any help…you'll be the first person I call. Now…I've got some things I need to do. I'll be in touch. And…_Hell's bell's_…thanks." I said, even though it hurt my pride to do so.

Marcone and Hendricks left. I locked up my office and Mouse and I left as well. I stopped by a local convenience store on the way back to my apartment to pick up some pain-killers, and, uh, some other items…one in particular that would be very useful in just a short while. As I was approaching my apartment building, I noticed Murphy's car parked outside. And then I saw Murphy walking towards my apartment. And then I noticed something _else_.

"Murphy! Get down!" I shouted. I triggered one of my rings and sent the vampire that had been attempting to attack Murphy sailing over Murphy's prone form and into the wall of my apartment building. Murphy had pulled her firearm and put three well-placed shots into the vampire's chest as he tried to get to his feet. The bullets couldn't kill him…couldn't even really cause him any lasting harm…but they certainly don't feel good and can be useful in stopping an attack…at least temporarily.

I closed the distance between myself and Murphy in long, ranging strides. "Murph, are you okay?" I asked.

"Yes, Dresden, I'm fine. I guess you were serious about the whole vampire-gunning-for-me thing."

"Well…I know this isn't a good time to be telling you 'I told you so', but…well…I told you so." I said. Wait. I know it. I'm a smart ass. So _sue_ me.

"Idiot!" Murphy said. She obviously doesn't appreciate how much work it takes to be a good smart ass. The total dedication to a dying art and the endless hours of study and practice - it all seemed to be lost on her.

The vampire tried to get to his feet once again, but Murphy put a bullet right in the center of his forehead, causing him to shriek in pain and fall to the ground once more. I was pretty much running on empty after the ordeal Baal put me through, but I readied my will and gathered what power I could. Then I shouted, "Ventas! Ventas Servitas! _Turbo_!" A small tornado appeared as if out of nowhere and snatched the vampire from the ground (where he was trying to gain his feet once again). Then it rose into the air and carried him away. To where I didn't know…and I didn't really care. As long as he was far away from Murphy and I…at least for the moment…well…that was all that I cared about.

"Come on, Murph. Let's get inside." I said.

Murphy, Mouse, and I made our way down the stairs leading to my apartment. I disarmed my protective wards and we slipped inside. Murphy started a fire while I re-activated the defensive spells that protect my home. Mouse went looking for Mister, who for some reason, had not come to greet us at the door.

"All right Harry, what the hell is going on. Spill!" said Murphy, sounding just a _little_ agitated.

"Hell's bells, Murph. Where do I start?" I asked.

"How about at the beginning, you idiot."

"Hey, if you keep calling me names it's not going to do much for my inferiority complex."

"Jerk." said Murphy.

"Come on, Murph. Knock it off. I mean it."

"Dolt."

"That tears it. Now you're in…trouble!" I lunged at Murphy. She stepped to the side and caught my right hand and wrist with both of her hands. She twisted my hand so that my palm was facing the ceiling and my elbow was locked and held tight under her left arm. She slowly lowered her hips, and as she did, I was forced to move with her…or wind up with a broken arm. She didn't stop until I was on the floor. I had just been introduced to _Hiji-Shime_ or, in English, an elbow lock. Just one of many moves practiced in the martial art that is Aikido.

"Had enough?" she asked.

"Yes. I give."

Foolish girl. As soon as she released the hold I rolled onto my back and swept her legs out from underneath her. I caught her on the way down and twisted and rolled in such a way that when she finally reached the floor…_I_ was on top of _her_. The whole thing kind of surprised me and I must have gotten lost for awhile, looking in her eyes. Those pretty eyes. I know this because the next thing I remember was….

"Harry?"

"Huh? Uh…what?" I asked.

"Harry, you're laying on top of me." Murphy said.

"Huh? Oh…yeah…I am." I replied.

"Well, get the hell off, will you?" Murphy asked, although it was more of a command than a request.

"Huh? Oh…yeah…sorry." I said.

I rolled off to the side and then stood up. I wanted to help Murphy up, but I knew if I tried…she'd kick my ass. Murphy's not that kind of girl.

"Harry, you look like shit."

"Gee, Karrin, thanks. Don't hold back or anything…why don't you just tell me how you really feel." I said, trying to put some hurt into my voice.

"I didn't mean it _that_ way. Idiot. What happened to you?" she asked.

"Oh…nothing. I just got roughed up a little…by a _lunatic_ who thinks he's the demon _Baal_. Marcone interrupted things before they could get _really_ interesting.' I replied.

"Demon? Baal? Marcone? Harry, what in the hell have you gotten yourself into this time?" Murphy inquired.

"Don't forget about Scar. And Miss Gard is missing. Baal has her."

"What? And who the hell is Scar?"

"Your vampire friend. You didn't notice the long, ugly scar running down his left cheek? Scar sounds like a good name to me…seeing as how I don't know his real name." I replied.

"Damn, Harry. What are we going to do?" asked Murphy.

"We?" I asked in reply.

"You're damn straight 'we'. I'm not letting you face this alone."

"I was sort of hoping you would say that. Actually I _knew_ you would say that. And I've been thinking. I need you to sit down and _listen_ to me. And don't say anything until I'm finished. Can you do that, Murph?" I asked.

"Of course I can. Dolt." Murphy said, smiling the whole time. Then she sat down on my second-hand couch, in front of the small, cozy fire burning in the fireplace, and said, "Alright, Harry, I'm listening. Let's hear what you have to say."


	9. Chapter 9

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Nine**

I walked over to the fireplace and removed _Fidelacchius_, the Sword of the Cross that once belonged to Shiro, from its resting place upon the mantel. I walked back to where Murphy was sitting on my second-hand couch and sat down on one of the arm rests. "Do you remember this?" I asked her, not expecting an answer but just as a way to begin saying what I wanted to say. "I don't know how much I've told you about this sword. Its name is _Fidelacchius…_ for faith, or faithful. It's a Sword of the Cross. It's one of three…and so-named because…according to legend…it contains an actual nail from the crucifixion in the blade. Those who wield these legendary blades are known as Knights of the Cross."

"I became the custodian of this sword when Shiro rescued me from Nicodemus…when he traded himself…for _me_. His _life_…for mine." I paused for a second, in an attempt to regain my composure. After all this time I still couldn't believe how much it _hurt_.

"Not long ago…you…and the sword…saved me from Deirdre. Once again I had managed to…just barely… escape what should have been certain death when I fled from the island where we rescued the Archive from Nicodemus. As Thomas was pulling me into his boat, Deirdre rose from the waters of Lake Michigan and grabbed me. You came to the rescue. You lost your weapon. Fidelacchius was within your reach. You grabbed the blade and began to draw it from its scabbard. As soon as you did - everyone - Deirdre included – was struck by a blinding white light. She had to release me."

"Afterwards, you asked me what had happened. I told you I thought that you had just received a job offer. You told me you already had a job…and that was the end of it…until now." I said, pausing once again, this time to let all that I had said up to this point…well…sink in. "Murphy…what happened when you drew the sword…that manifestation of blinding white light…it only happens when it is wielded by someone _worthy_ of doing so. After what happened to Michael during the rescue of the Archive…well…there is only one of the three Swords in the field now."

"Take up the sword, Murphy. Shiro told me I would know who it was that I was supposed to give it to. And I _believe_ that I'm supposed to give it to _you_. Scar is after you. Conventional weaponry is no good against a threat like him. But _Fidelacchius_ is...and then some. And I'm pretty sure I'm going to need help when I go after Baal. _Fidelacchius_…and someone to wield it…would be a _big_ help." I said, hoping that Murphy would understand.

"Harry…I can't…I already told you that. I already have a job. I'm a cop. That's _what_ I am. That's _who_ I am. I'm…sorry…" replied Murphy.

"Hell's bells, Murph. Alright. Okay. How about this? Keep the sword with you…just for now. You don't have to use it. You don't even have to draw it…not if you don't want to. But if you have a change of heart …or find yourself in a situation where you need it…then you'll have it. And if one of those things happens it still doesn't mean you have to become a Knight. You can consider it…temp work."

"Well…that sounds okay. Alright, Dresden, you've got yourself a deal. But I'm not making any promises…you got that?" Murphy asked.

"I got it. Thanks, Karrin." I said, happy…but worried…at the same time. As a member of the Chicago Police Department's Special Investigations Division she was often placed in dangerous situations. But if she decided to take up _Fidelacchius_, even temporarily, well…that moved her into the big leagues. And I'm not sure I liked that idea too much.

"It's late, Murph. Why don't you crash here? You can take my bedroom. I'll sleep on the couch. I have some stuff to do in my lab anyway. And Mister appreciates someone else to curl up with every now and then." I said, thinking that I wouldn't mind curling up with her either. Yikes! Where did that come from? Earth to Harry! Earth to Harry! This is Murphy you're thinking about. Remember? Tough. Independent. Cop. _Friend_. Oh…yeah. Crap!

"Harry, I know you're worried about me. And it's…cute. But I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." Said the afore-mentioned tough, independent Murphy.

"Murphy, I know you can take care of yourself. Believe me…_I know_. But humor me, will you? Stay here tonight. I'll…feel better…if you do. If I _know_ you're safe." I replied.

"Dresden, you're pathetic. You're outdated sense of chivalry can really be a pain in the ass. But…alright…I'll stay." Murphy said, trying to hide a smile the entire time.

"Thanks, Karrin. My home is your home…at least for tonight. Maybe longer if we can't find Scar and take him out. Make yourself comfortable while I take care of some things down in my lab." I said.

"Okay, Harry. Thanks."

I retrieved and donned a heavy flannel robe from my bedroom. Then I pulled up the rug that conceals the entrance to my lab (a trapdoor set into the floor of my living room) and retrieved one of the items that I purchased on my way home from my office. I raised the trapdoor and descended the folding stepladder that leads to my laboratory. I whispered a minor spell and several candles placed in key positions around the small room immediately came alight.

"Bob! Wake up, sleepyhead. I need to pick your brain." I said, in a somewhat authoritative, but also friendly, tone.

Orange flames flickered slowly to life in the skull's empty eye sockets. "Very funny, Harry. Very funny. Please don't give up your day job. Oh…that's right…you don't _have_ a day job." Bob said, obviously not as appreciative of my attempt at a little humor as I was. And he probably wasn't all that happy that I woke him up either. He was probably dreaming about chasing naked Playmates around the Playboy Mansion - or something similarly smutty.

"Bob, that wasn't very nice. You keep that up and I won't give you this little gift I picked up for you today." I said.

The flames in the skull's eye sockets grew brighter and the skull itself started to rock back and forth - as if Bob was trying to jump up and down. "You got me a present? What did I get? What did I get?" Bob asked, barely able to contain himself.

I placed the item that I had picked up earlier that day on the shelf next to Bob…and waited.

"_Penthouse Letters_? Yippee! Err…wait just a minute…why the nice present, Harry? Maybe it's because your apprentice…hot though she may be…almost _barbecued_ me with that fire spell you taught her? Or maybe you need something? Like some information on the latest supernatural bad ass that you somehow managed to piss off? Which is it, Harry?" Bob asked. Maybe he knows me just a little bit too well.

"Uh…well…it's a little of both, I guess. I need to know what you can tell me about a demon…Ba'al in particular." I said, in response to Bob's inquiry.

"Oh? Is that all? Well, first of all, Ba'al or Baal, is a title and honorific that means _master_ or _lord_ in the Northwest Semitic language and is not necessarily the name of a certain demon. Christianity sometimes identifies Baal as a specific demon. In these instances he has either been compared to Satan himself or identified as his main lieutenant. Ba'al Zebub or Beelzebub is another version of the demon called Baal…and is often depicted in ancient writings. Beelzebub can be translated as _Lord of flies_. Beelzebub has also been interchanged with Beelzebul - which has also been used as an alternate name for Satan or as a name for a lesser devil or demon." Bob said. He can be a royal pain in the ass sometimes…but he makes up for it when it comes to his knowledge of the supernatural.

"Oh…okay…thanks." I said, still processing this new information.

"Why do you need to know about Baal, Harry? What have you gotten yourself into now?" Bob inquired.

"I was attacked this morning. In my office. One second I was completely alone, and the next, there's a man in my office dressed in a crimson robe, complete with a very large cowl and some other…weird…accessories. Before I could do _anything_ I was levitated off the floor and placed in a binding that caused the most _excruciating pain_ that I have ever felt."

"A _dark binding_." Bob whispered.

"A what?" I asked.

"A dark binding, Harry. Bad stuff. Very bad stuff. And I imagine your attacker identified himself as Baal…the demon?"

"Yes. Yes, he did. Is it possible, Bob? Is it really possible that he can be the demon Baal?" I asked, not really sure if I wanted to hear Bob's answer.

"Oh, yes, it is certainly possible. But there are other possibilities as well. The fact that he was able to place you in a dark binding means that a demon is definitely involved. You know about Black Magic, Harry. You know what it can do. Dark bindings come from magic much, much worse than that of the Black. Only demons have the knowledge and aptitude to employ that type of magic. So…we could have a very powerful sorcerer, or wizard, who's in league with a very powerful demon, maybe even Baal himself. Or…the sorcerer, or wizard, could be possessed by this demon. Or…you could be up against the actual demon itself. There's not really any way to tell. You certainly can't take this Baal at his word, though."

"Oh? And why is that, Bob?" I inquired, pretty sure that I already knew the answer.

"Because demons _lie_, Harry. That's what they _do_." Bob replied.


	10. Chapter 10

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Ten**

"Point taken." I replied to Bob. "But I'm pretty sure he's telling the truth about at least one thing."

"Oh? And that would be what exactly?" asked Bob.

"He has Miss Gard." I said, the words, not surprisingly, sounding hard and cold.

"The valkyrie? Oh…that isn't good, Harry. That isn't good at all." replied Bob, truly sounding scared.

"What's the matter with you, Bob? Don't worry, I'm going to get her back."

"I knew that already, Harry. Or at least that you're going to _try_ to get her back. But this is serious stuff. If Miss Gard really is a Valkyrie then she would be a very useful tool for this Baal…no matter _what_…or _who_…he actually is. Her blood alone could increase the power of any spell or incantation that requires it…well…tenfold…at the very least. And if she were used as the sacrifice in…any number of rituals that require human sacrifice…well…with her life force…with that kind of fuel…things could get ugly Harry. Really…ugly. At least one spell that I know of is said to allow Lucifer himself…to walk the world once more." Bob said, a slight quiver in his voice the entire time.

"Uh oh."

"Uh oh? What does _uh oh_ mean, Harry?" inquired Bob.

"In my office…when I was…err…talking with Baal. He said that his master has plans for Miss Gard. I don't think I have to tell you who he said his master is." I replied.

"Harry, you have to find him. And you have to deny him the use of the valkyrie. If you can't rescue her…you'll have to…kill her…before he can."

"Bob…I can't…I couldn't…"

"If it comes to that Harry, you'll have to. Unless you want to be the one responsible for unleashing _Hell on Earth_…_literally_." Bob said.

"It won't come to that. I'm going to get her back. In the morning you have permission to take Mister out. Your mission: find Baal. As soon as you locate him I want you back here. Understood?"

"Yes, boss. Understood." Bob replied.

"And leave the Doberman that lives down the street alone. You and Mister have that poor dog so messed up that not even the Dog Whisperer can fix him." I said.

"Oh come on, Harry. It's just a little harmless fun." Bob answered.

"Leave him alone, Bob. I mean it. Now…I'm going to bed. Enjoy your magazine."

I climbed back up the folding stepladder and closed the trapdoor that leads to my lab. I pulled the rug back over the entrance and then placed a few pieces of wood on the fire slowly burning in the fireplace. I looked around for Murphy but didn't see her anywhere. I quietly walked into my bedroom and found her on my bed, already fast asleep. _Fidelacchius _lay on the nightstand next to her, along with her service firearm, both within easy reach. I pulled the covers up over her sleeping form, kissed her lightly on the forehead, extinguished the candles in the room with a simple spell, and then headed for what would be a rough night's sleep on my second-hand sofa.

I woke up the following morning, stiff and sore. Whether the cause was the punishment I had suffered at the hands of Baal or my troubled night's sleep on the couch, I couldn't tell. More than likely it was a combination of both. I let Mister, or Bob, or Mister/Bob, out the front door of my apartment so that he, or he, or they, could begin the search for Baal and Miss Gard. I took Mouse with me on a short, fast run that left us both winded by the time we returned home.

Once inside I made sure Mouse had water and chow and then began to work out on my heavy bag. I heard the shower start up and figured Murphy must be awake. I don't think I need to tell you what images were running through my head as I attempted to beat the living hell out of the bag. It didn't take long to get deep into the "zone"…so much so that I never heard the shower cut off. Nor did I hear, or notice, Murphy leave my bedroom and begin to watch my workout.

"Good morning, Harry."

I turned, startled by the sound…and there she was. Murphy. Her hair was still wet from the shower. And she was wearing one of my t-shirts. I'm not positive…but I think that my t-shirt was the _only thing_ she was wearing. And if that wasn't enough, the combination of the cold water from her recent shower, and the consistently brisk temperatures that accompany living in a basement apartment in Chicago, was having a pronounced affect on certain parts of her anatomy. Hell's bells! Oh…and she had Fiddelacchius with her. Could it be that she was actually developing a bond with holy weapon?

"Huh? What? Murphy! How long have you been standing there?" I asked.

"Not long…but long enough. I was beginning to feel sorry for the heavy bag. And…you've put on some muscle. You look…good." Murphy said.

"Uh…thanks, Murph. Thomas decided that if I could drag him out running with me all the time…then he could drag me to the gym with him. I'll never look like _Arnold_ or anything, but I'm doing okay. Did you sleep well?

"Like a baby. And…thanks, Harry. I know I gave you a rash of shit last night about you wanting me to stay here. But I'm glad I did. And it's always nice to know that someone...well…_truly cares_…about you." replied Murphy.

I was having a hard time trying not to let my eyes roam over the scantily clad Murphy. A _really_ hard time. And this conversation was beginning to get a little too serious for yours truly. Murphy and I established relationship boundaries long ago. We could be friends…but nothing more than that. I don't know if she had recently spent some time reevaluating her position on this matter or not. And, thinking about it, I decided that I didn't really want to know. I like the way my life is now. My life is _good_. Not great…but good. Why take a chance on screwing that up?

"Harry…"

"Huh? Err…were you going to say something, Murph?

"Uh…yeah…I was. What's the plan? Where do we go from here?" asked the diminutive, scantily clad, _intoxicating_, sword toting Karrin Murphy.

"Ummmmm…you mean concerning Baal and Scar, right?" I asked.

"What? Well…yes…of course I meant concerning Baal and Scar. What else would I be talking about? Dolt!" Murphy replied.

"Oh…nothing…nothing at all. As far as Baal is concerned, I have someone trying to locate him as we speak. And Scar? Well…I have a feeling Scar is going to find us." I said.

And then, before either one of us could say anything more, someone began knocking on my front door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Eleven**

I looked at Murphy. She looked back at me. I kept looking at Murphy. Hey, considering what she was currently wearing, can you blame me? I didn't think so.

"Harry, quit gawking at me and get the damn door." said the scantily clad Murphy.

"Uh…do you think that's a good idea?" I asked.

"Harry, do you really think that whoever is out there would knock on the door first if they wanted to hurt us?"

"Stranger things than that have happened to me, believe that." I replied.

"You're impossible. Okay, then, what about your wards? They haven't been activated." Murphy said.

"I'm not so sure that means anything. Ba'al got into my office yesterday and I don't know how he did it. One second I was alone…and the next he was just there. He could be nullifying the magical defenses I have in place. I don't know enough about him. I've been in over my head before…hell, I'm in over my head almost all of the time…but this is different." I replied.

"Harry, for heaven's sake quit your crying, you big baby." said Murphy.

I was getting ready to say something, something probably stupid, but just then whoever, or whatever, was outside knocked again.

"Harry? By the stars, son! Open the door. It's Eb."

Eb? Ebenezar McCoy? What in the hell was he doing here?

I summoned my staff (just in case) and headed towards the door. Murphy stayed put and probably got a few chuckles from watching me struggle to get my damn front door open. Once I finally did I couldn't believe my eyes. It really was Ebenezar. And he looked like he'd just been in a fight…or a couple of them.

I helped Eb inside and over to my couch. He all but collapsed by the time I got him there. He was exhausted; and he bore signs that stated he had been in some tough battles recently. Ebenezar McCoy. My mentor. One of the most powerful wizards on the planet. Blackstaff of the White Council. And here he was in my apartment – all but dead on his feet. How's the old saying go? Oh…yeah…when it rains, it pours.

"You look like shit. Er…Sir." I said.

"Harry…" said Murphy, sounding just a tad reproachful. Well, okay, sounding very reproachful.

"Hey! I couldn't help it. I finally got the chance to say that to someone else and I wasn't going to pass it up." I replied.

"I repeat. You're an idiot." Murphy said.

"Ummm…excuse me…but when the two of you are finished do you think one of you could fetch me some aspirin?" said one extremely tired-sounding Blackstaff.

"Shit! I'm sorry, sir. I'll be right back." I said, already heading for my bedroom (and a first aid kit).

"Hello, ma'am. I remember you from the Mavra hunt. Although you were wearing a lot more clothes then…and you weren't wielding one of the Swords. I didn't interrupt anything, did I?" inquired Ebenezar of the still scantily clad, Sword toting Murphy.

"What? Interrupt…? Oh! No! No, you didn't interrupt anything at all. Um…I'm going to go change." replied Murphy, her face already starting to turn a bright shade of red.

We passed each other as I was heading back to tend to Eb. The look on her face stated in no uncertain terms that now would not be an ideal time to mess with her. Which, in my case, meant that it would be a _perfect_ time to mess with her. Unfortunately, I had a wounded wizard to tend to. Hey, who says I can't prioritize?

I handed the pain-killers to Eb, along with a tall glass of water. I watched as he swallowed the pills and then emptied his glass. Then I handed him a truly magical elixir that I was sure would restore him to full health in no time. That's right…one of Mac's micro-brews…and ice-cold no less. And that's when Murphy came back out after…regretfully…changing back into the clothes she was wearing when she arrived at my apartment the previous day.

"Beer? You're giving him beer? And after you just gave him pain-killers? Are you crazy?" asked Murphy, obviously not very impressed with my healing methods.

"Easy, Murph. This isn't just beer. _It's Mac's beer_. And wizards, especially ones as powerful as Ebenezar here, are a rather hardy bunch. He'll be fine." I replied.

"Harry's right, ma'am. Don't be angry with him on my account." added Ebenezar.

"Okay, Eb, time to spill it. What happened to you?" I asked.

"On my way here…I was attacked…well…_ambushed_ would be a better word…on three separate occasions. I survived them…that's rather obvious or I wouldn't be here…but…they were tough fights. Someone did not want me to make it here in one piece…but rather in _pieces_. I believe now that the Gatekeeper was accurate in his assessment of the current situation." Eb replied, pausing every now and then to take a pull from his brew.

"The Gatekeeper? Stars and Stones, Eb. What has he got to do with this?"

"I don't know, really. He came to me a few days ago and said that you were going to need my help. He told me I had to leave right away and get here as soon as I possibly could. He said that you are, or rather,_ were going to be_, involved in a very dangerous plot. One with several potential ramifications, all of them ranging from bad…to very, very bad." replied Eb.

"Hell's bells…" I said, suddenly at a loss for words.

"So what have you got yourself into this time, Hoss?" asked Eb.

Murphy and I both found a spot in which to sit down. I was thrilled to see that Murphy was still carrying _Fiddelacchius _with her. They seemed to be growing inseparable. Then I launched into my story. I told Eb everything. Well, almost everything. I told him about the abduction of Miss Gard. About Mavra's late night visit. About Scar. And, of course, about Baal. I left out the part about Bob's/Mister's current recon mission. At some point I'm going to have to come clean as far as Bob is concerned…but not now.

"Damn, son. When you go looking for trouble, you certainly don't beat around the bush." said Eb, after I had finished.

"Hey! I don't go _looking_ for trouble. Trouble finds _me_." I replied.

"Talk about understatements…" I heard Murphy say, attempting to hide it as a mumble. I shot her a look, and Murphy, true to form, shot one right back at me.

"Okay, Hoss, I'm in. What's the plan?" asked my old mentor in his unique Southern drawl.

"Er…plan?" I asked back.

"Yes. Your plan. The course of action you have chosen. You do have one, don't you?"

"Well, yes, sort of…" I replied.

"Good. Very good. Let's hear it." Eb said, sounding very optimistic. I figured that wasn't going to last for very long. Actually I figured that it would last about as long as it would take for me to tell him my…er…plan.

"Um…first, we're going to find Ba'al, and hopefully, where he's taken the Valkyrie as well. That part of the plan is actually in execution as we speak. I assigned the task to a special…er…operative I associate with from time to time. Once we know where the bastard is, well…we rally the troops and confront the dragon in its lair…so to speak. We rip his head off, shit down his neck, and rescue Sigrun. Um, not necessarily in that order, but I think you get the general idea. Oh, and I expect Scar to rear his ugly head somewhere during all of this, probably blowing my well thought out, highly-detailed battle plan, all to hell. So…what do you think?"

Ebenezar just sat there for awhile. To say that he was speechless, well, talk about understatements once again. Then, finally, he broke the silence. "Well, son, I've sat in on a few war councils in my time. And I've been privy to, briefed on, or even developed, just a few battle plans over the years. And while yours is rather simple, well…I like it. Besides, as a German Field Marshall once said 'No battle plan ever survives contact with the enemy', and more times than not that statement has been proven true more than it has been false." said Eb.

"Okay, then, just to make sure that we are all on the same page, I would like to recap. First…we're going to find him; second…we're gonna kick his ass; and third…we're gonna rescue the damsel in distress…who in this case just happens to be a friggin' Valkyrie." I said, feeling rather proud of my intuitive tactical genius. And, yes, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that there is no way in Hell that this is going to go down like that. And you would be right. More right than you could possibly know.


	12. Chapter 12

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Twelve**

Ebenezar retired to my bedroom in order to perform some healing rituals he picked up from Listens-To-Wind. Hopefully the rituals, combined with some much-needed sleep, would restore him enough to get him back into the fight. I was going to need him. And even if I didn't need him, there was no way he would allow me to leave him out of whatever was coming next.

Murphy left for the office. She was going to tie up a few loose ends and then take a couple of vacation days. Evidently she learned her lesson after our little trip to rescue Molly. After that she was going to stop by her home and grab some stuff she thought she would need once we located Ba'al and made our move against him.

As for me, I waited patiently for Bob/Mister to return from their recon mission. Alright. Alright. Patiently my ass. I almost had a hole worn in my floor by the time Mouse started barking – alerting me to the fact that my rather unorthodox recon team had returned home. I dropped my wards long enough to get my front door open and allow Bob/Mister to get inside. I grabbed my heavy robe while the dynamic duo headed downstairs to my lab. Bob was back in his skull by the time I arrived.

"Bob, what have you got?" I asked.

Bob just looked at me for a second and then replied, "It's not good, Harry. It's not good at all."

"What do you mean? Where is he, Bob? Where's Ba'al?"

"He's…he's in the Nevernever, Harry." said Bob, actually sounding a little frightened.

"Great. Just great. Alright. Who am I going to piss off, Mab or Titania?" I asked. Mab is the queen of Winter and Titania is the queen of Summer. Most of the territory that comprises the Nevernever belongs to them. It was a pretty safe bet that I would be trespassing on turf that belonged to at least one of them. And neither one of them particularly adores, or, hell, even likes me.

"Um…well…neither of them actually. That's just it, Harry. Ba'al isn't in the realm of Summer or Winter. He's in an altogether different part of the Nevernever. A rather nasty part, I might add. No one that I know of knows its true name but some call it _The Dark_. It makes the realms of Summer and Winter look almost tame in comparison." replied Bob.

"Oh. Okay. I guess I should have seen that coming." I said. I seem to remember a song that says "If it weren't for bad luck, I'd have no luck at all." Welcome to _my_ world. I thanked Bob for his efforts and headed upstairs…to prepare for war.

I cleaned my shotgun, as well as my .44 Magnum revolver. I cleaned my staff and my blasting rod. I cleaned my leather duster and even used a few tricks that Eb had taught me to reinforce some of the spells that I had worked into it over the years since Susan bought it for me. And this wasn't just "busy work" either. My gear really needed some maintenance and I needed something to occupy my mind for a while. Something other than the upcoming battle with Ba'al.

Sometime during all this activity, Eb woke up. I know this because I heard my shower running and was pretty sure that neither Mouse, nor Mister, was using it. He finally made it into the living room, fully dressed, staff in hand, just about the time that I finished my preparations.

"Hoss."

"Eb. Um, have you heard of a place in the Nevernever sometimes referred to as _The Dark_?"

"Yes," replied Eb, his voice low and somber.

"Can you get us there?" I asked.

"Is that where we need to go?"

"Yes, it is," I replied.

"Then I can get us there," replied the Blackstaff of the White Council.

"Great." That was all that I could think of to say in response.

"Are you ready for this, son?" he asked.

"Hell, no!" I replied.

"But we're going anyway, right?"

"Hell, yes!"

"I thought as much. Well…there isn't much else to do, other than to just do it." said Eb.

"Well said," I replied. "Let me make a few phone calls."

_The Dark, _Eb explained, isn't tied to any specific location here on Earth, and therefore was accessible from any location. With that being said, we decided to link-up with the other members of our war party on the shores of Lake Michigan. We weren't far from the point where I once ascended a mystical staircase that carried me into the middle of a battle between the forces of Summer and Winter…and where I set in motion events that led to the death of the Summer Lady.

Eb, Mouse, and myself all disembarked from the Blue Beetle. Mouse went to greet our companions while Eb and I retrieved our gear. Eb had his staff, as well as a Mossberg 590A1 Tactical Shotgun. Compared to me, he travels pretty light. But, then again, he is the Blackstaff of the White Council, and one of the most powerful wizards on the planet. We locked stares for a brief moment, turned around, and began walking towards the small group assembled near the water's edge.

"Dresden," said Marcone.

"John," I replied.

"We've had this conversation before, wizard. I don't like it when you call me John," said Marcone, quite seriously I might add.

"I know. I just don't give a shit," I replied, also quite seriously.

Hendricks, Gentleman Johnny's bodyguard, evidently didn't like the way I was disrespecting his boss, and took a step in my direction.

"Take it easy, big guy. I'm not here to fight with you two. Not today. I know where Miss Gard is. I'm going to get her. I thought you two would want to help." I said.

"I had guessed as much. Even though you annoy me to no end, you are one of the most honorable men I know. Mr. Hendricks, you may give the signal now." said Gentleman Johnny Marcone.

I don't know what Hendricks did. I know I didn't see him move or anything. At least it didn't look like he moved. But whatever he did, it produced the desired effect. As if out of nowhere there appeared two black, up-armored HUMMERs. Each HUMMER disgorged five men – a total of ten men in all. Ten very tough, very hard, and very dangerous men. They were most certainly mercenaries. They were dressed in black military-style fatigues as well as state-of-the-art body armor. And they were carrying a variety of very nasty-looking, and certainly very lethal, weapons. Marcone and Hendricks took off in their direction…and that is when I noticed Murphy.

She was dressed in a sky-blue, skin-tight T-shirt and incredibly skimpy, as well as incredibly tight, khaki shorts that left an awful lot of thigh exposed. On each hip/upper thigh she wore a tactical holster, each holster containing an HK45. HK stands for Heckler & Koch, a German-based firearms manufacturing company. Chambered for .45 ACP ammunition, the weapon was designed primarily for use buy elite United States Special Forces soldiers.

I immediately wondered if they were another gift from Kincaid. And what if they were? I didn't have any claim on her. Far from it, as a matter of fact. But, truth be told, it did bother me. Anyway, back to Murphy and the rest of her new look.

She also had _Fiddelacchius _with her. The Sword was slung across her back by means of an improvised harness that allowed her to carry it that way – and still provided her with quick access to the weapon. And, for the first time that I can remember, she had her hair pulled back in a ponytail.

I walked up to her, and with as straight a face as I could manage, said "Lara Croft? You don't know what a pleasure this is, meeting you like this."

Murphy just looked at me, totally clueless.

"Lara Croft? The Tomb Raider? Video games, comic books, movies? Angelina Jolie?"

Once again Murphy just looked at me. But this time it was one of _those_ looks. Then she called me an idiot and walked away. But before she turned to go I did see the smallest of smiles playing upon her lips.

I gathered up my little band of merry men and then nodded to Eb. Eb nodded back. I felt the tiniest whisper of magic as he opened a portal to the Nevernever. Our eyes met briefly before I stepped through…straight into a nightmare.


	13. Chapter 13

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Thirteen**

Nightmare was probably too tame of a description for this part of the Nevernever. From what Bob had told me, the only thing close to approaching a name for this place was _The Dark. _If anyone knew its true name…well…they probably weren't going to speak it aloud. Names have a power in and of themselves. If this realm was as dangerous as I believed it to be, then speaking its true name probably wouldn't be good for one's health.

After emerging from the portal, I found myself atop a good-sized hill. For as far as the eye could see everything was devoid of color. The landscape - the forests, hills, mountains and rivers - were painted in various shades of black and grey. Bare skeletons that appeared to belong to a variety of creatures, as well as the rotting carcasses of gargantuan beasts, littered the valley below. Murphy was the next through the portal, with Mouse in tow.

"What in the Hell?" asked Murphy.

"Well said, Lara. As a matter of fact…that is exactly what I was thinking right before you arrived." I replied.

"Screw you, Dresden." said Murphy, sounding just a little perturbed.

One by one, the members of our rather unorthodox search and rescue team arrived in the Nevernever. Ebenezar was the last one through.

"I'll stay here and keep the portal open. You go do what you came to do. And…be careful, Hoss." said the Blackstaff of the White Council.

"Okay, Eb. Mouse, I want you to stay here and watch Ebenezar's back. Alright? Can you do that for me?" Mouse didn't look too thrilled about the idea. It might have been because he was being left behind. It might have been because he wouldn't be where he could look out for me. It was probably both. But I knew I could count on him to ward Ebenezar.

"Mr. Larson, I want you and your team to stay here and guard the wizard. He's our way out. If any harm comes to him, I'm holding you and your men responsible." said one John Marcone. "Mr. Anderson, you and your team will accompany myself, Mr. Dresden and Officer Murphy. Any questions? I didn't think so. Wizard Dresden, I believe we are ready to begin this little adventure."

I shot Marcone a dirty look. Instead of shooting one back, he smiled instead. Talk about someone having ice water in their veins and you are talking about John Marcone. One of Mr. Anderson's men took point and the others formed a loose wedge. Marcone, Hendricks, Murphy and myself occupied the center of the wedge. Now came the hard part. I only knew of one way that I was going to be able to locate Ba'al…and it was going to suck. _Really_ suck.

I opened my Sight…and immediately regretted it. I was assaulted on so many levels that it almost overwhelmed me. My head felt like it was going to explode. I felt nauseous. My knees buckled. I started to black out. But then I saw it. In all the messed up wrong that was this place, I saw a small part that was even _worse_. That had to be where Ba'al was. And if he was there, then Miss Gard couldn't be far away. I closed my Sight, leaned on my staff for support, and gave the order to move out.

The trip down to the valley floor didn't take very long at all. The climb up the other side, well, that took a little longer. It also made me realize that maybe I wasn't in as good of shape as I thought I was. Note to self…find the time to work out more. We came out of the valley onto a relatively flat plateau. Nothing was there waiting to eat us. Score one for Team Dresden. After walking for a while we came to the edge of a large forest.

The trees started off rather small and were spaced widely apart. But the deeper we ventured in the larger the trees got, making space somewhat of a luxury. Wait-a-minute vines and razor grass also became a problem. We were on the correct path though, and getting closer to Ba'al with every step we took.

After what seemed an eternity we found ourselves in a clearing. A _large_ clearing. A perfect place for an ambush. And that's exactly what we walked into. One of Marcone's mercenaries was down before we even knew what was happening. A rather primitive-looking spear took him out. The tip had penetrated his left eye socket and emerged from the back of his brain-housing group. Yuck!

I immediately called up my shield and looked for something…anything…to kill. I didn't have to wait long. Three misshapen creatures the size of dwarves emerged from the tree-line on the other side of the clearing, carrying what appeared to be short swords. There was a large rock in between myself and them. With a cry of "Forzare!" I blasted the rock into thousands of small, very sharp, very deadly, splinters.

"Ventas! Ventas servitas!" I called up a wind that picked up the splinters of blasted rock and hurled them at the trio of attackers. My improvised claymore mine worked like a charm, although looking at what was left of the creatures made me happy that I hadn't eaten anything in a while. Because if I had, well, it probably would have come back up.

I looked to my left and saw that Murphy had drawn _Fiddelacchius. _She was surrounded by a group of four of the same misshapen dwarf creatures – two wielding spears and two wielding short swords. A spearman attacked first, thrusting straight at her chest. She knocked the strike away, to her left, and then continued to spin in that direction. Completing a 360-degree turn she decapitated the creature with one stroke of the holy weapon.

The two swordsmen decided to conduct a simultaneous attack. They didn't fare any better. Murphy used her skill in Aikido to frustrate their efforts, forcing them to get in each other's way as she moved among them. One attacker quickly lost an arm and then was disemboweled. The other was hamstrung and then decapitated. The remaining spearman decided that he no longer wanted any part of this fight and began to run away. Murphy took him down with one shot from her HK45.

Marcone, Hendricks, and Marcone's mercenaries were all well engaged in the battle. The clearing was beginning to become littered with the bodies of the dwarven creatures. But they kept coming. I had my blasting rod out and was frying the little bastards as fast as I could shout "Fuego!". At some point two of the little guys had managed to get in close somehow, so I introduced one to my force rings and the other to my .44.

Murphy, and _Fiddelacchius, _had become one. She was wielding the Sword as if she had been born for that sole purpose. If, at that point in time, I could have been compared to a thunder storm, then she would have been compared to a _hurricane_. She was relentless, defending and attacking with a fury I had never seen before. And she was…_beautiful_.

At some point the attack seemed to ebb. And then, well, it was over. Scores of the creatures lay scattered among the clearing. We had lost another of Marcone's men sometime during the battle. But other than the fact that we were all quite tired, we were all in pretty good shape. It was at this point that things got just a little crazy. Well, o.k., maybe a _lot_ crazy.

There was a shimmering in the air, and I could feel magic, powerful magic, at work. But it was a different magic than the kind that I access and employ. This was older. A lot older. Suddenly, we found ourselves face-to-face with several blonde, rather Nordic-looking, females. They were tall, extremely fit, well-armored, and armed with either a sword, spear or bow. Some had all three.

One stepped forward. I assumed she was the leader. And boy was I right.

"Greetings, Wizard Dresden. I am the Lady Sif."

"Lady? Sif? As in the wife of Thor? As in Asgard? Stars and Stones! You have got to be kidding me!" I exclaimed.

"I do not jest. I am she. My companions are valkyries. We have come to offer what aid we can in the rescue of their sister, Sigrun." replied the Lady.

"What? Why didn't you just rescue her yourselves?" I asked. Hey, it sounded like a good question at the time. And, no, I don't usually make it a hobby to question goddesses.

"We have been…prevented. Until now, that is. Now we are here. More of Sigrun's sisters have been dispatched to aid the Blackstaff. Even now he, and the portal between this realm and yours, is under attack. I believe that we should spend less time in pointless chatter and more time in attempting to rescue Sigrun."

"Eb? Under attack? Shit! Okay. Okay. Do you know where Sigrun is?" I asked.

"Yes. We have found her. There is another clearing, similar to this one, located just two leagues from here. She is warded by these same creatures, as well as others. These appear to have been just an advance guard. Many more await us there." replied Sif.

"Oh. Well. That's great news. All right, team. Follow me!" I said, trying to sound as confident as I could. Whether I pulled it off or not, well, that's another question entirely.


	14. Chapter 14

**Temp Work: A Dresden Files Short Story**

**Fourteen**

We walked. And we walked. And then we walked some more. Just when I was beginning to wonder whether we had covered _two-hundred_ leagues, instead of only two, the Lady Sif raised her right hand, apparently trying to signal our small company to come to a halt. Much to my surprise, it worked. I went forward to talk to her. Murphy and Marcone tagged along.

"What is it? I asked.

"Our adversaries, as well as Sigrun, are just ahead. The time for battle is upon us." replied Sif.

Just then I saw one of the misshapen dwarven creatures move among the trees just a hundred yards ahead. I was sure that he, she or it, had seen us as well. I was in the process of drawing my blasting rod when the Lady Sif placed her hand on my arm.

"There is no need for that just yet, wizard. They cannot see us. I have seen to that." said the Lady, with a small, but satisfied smile on her face.

A veil. Or something equivalent to it. She had been concealing us during the entire march. And I wasn't even aware of it. Hell's bells! I thought about how much power that would take. How much…_control_. I decided that I was going to stay on the Lady's good side. Well…_attempt_ to stay on her good side at any rate. Sometimes I just can't help but piss people off. It's a talent.

"Can you get us close enough for me to see just exactly what it is we're up against?" I inquired.

"I believe that I can mask you as well as myself. I would not like to attempt the concealment of any more than that. Not…at this range. Would that aid you?"

"Yes. Murph…Johnny…you two stay here. And play nice. We'll be back soon." I said. Neither Murphy nor Marcone looked very happy about it.

"What if you get in trouble? What if you need us?" asked Murphy.

"In either case…or both, I think you guys will know. Just come running, loaded for bear and ready to kill something." I replied.

"Okay. That works. I guess." replied Murphy. But I swear that she was actually _pouting_ as she said it.

With that out of the way, Sif and I moved out. It didn't take long until we found ourselves at the edge of another large clearing. A stone altar occupied the center of it. It was covered in runes and sigils, as well as other symbols that I didn't recognize. Sigrun, either unconscious or dead, lay upon it. If she wasn't dead, she had to be close to it. The damage that had been done to was…_extensive_.

As Sif had mentioned earlier, Sigrun was guarded by scores of the same misshapen dwarven creatures that we had tangled with earlier. But they were augmented by some other creatures…the likes of which I never seen before. Interspersed among them were about a half-score of what appeared to be some type of wolf-like creature. Only these wolves were the size of a full-grown tiger. And they were saber-toothed.

In addition to the saber-toothed wolves there was also a…well…_a cave bear_? The bastard was huge. Standing on two legs he had to be fifteen feet tall. He probably weighed somewhere in the area of 2000 pounds. His claws had to have been at least six inches in length and looked to be razor sharp. And I don't even want to talk about his _teeth_.

Ba'al was nowhere in sight. I could only assume that he was in another location preparing himself for the upcoming ritual. But wherever he was, he couldn't be far away. He wouldn't take a chance on being too far removed from his captive. Or at least I didn't think he would.

"Sif, we have to move against these guys. Now. Sigrun isn't going to make it if we don't." I said.

"I concur, wizard. Coming?"

One leap and Sif was at the altar…and _surrounded_ by enemies.

"_Empty night! _I didn't mean _right_ now!" A Valkyrie appeared out of nowhere and, standing back-to-back, they stared down their opponents. Another pair of valkyries appeared on the opposite side of the altar, weapons drawn and standing back-to-back as well.

I could hear the rest of Team Dresden coming up behind me, eager to join in the fray. I figured it might be nice if they had a fray to join in. So I did what I do best. I called up my shield as I stepped into the clearing. I drew my blasting rod and leveled it at the first creature in my way, one of the dwarven ones, and with a shouted word, took him out of the fight. Permanently.

That was all it took. No, really, I mean it. All hell broke loose at that point. Murphy and the remaining Valkyrie emerged from the tree line and threw themselves into the fight. Marcone's remaining mercenaries stayed just inside the tree line, firing their weapons from concealed positions. Hendricks, like a man possessed, was making his way towards the altar, and Sigrun, killing anything that got in his way.

I, meanwhile, found myself back-to-back with Gentleman John Marcone. I couldn't believe it. Of all the available options: The Lady Sif, four valkyries, and one Karrin Murphy, I wind up teamed together with Marcone. God hates me. He really does.

I figured my best option was to work on the wolves while my comrades handled the _misshapen_. I'm going to refer to them as that from now on just to make things easier. If you don't like it, sue me. Hendricks had reached the altar and had taken Sif's position with the Valkyrie. Sif, meanwhile, was heading towards the cave bear and its handler.

Marcone was actually doing a pretty fair job of watching my back. But I didn't kid myself either. It wasn't because we were friends or anything, but more a question of survival...because I was watching _his_ back. If I went down then it was a good bet that he would too. At any rate, it left me free to deal with the wolf-like creatures. This turned out to be a good thing because two of the saber-toothed beasts were heading in our direction at that very moment. And they were _fast_!


End file.
